


By the Lake

by BradleyJardine



Category: Formula 1 RPF, IndyCar RPF
Genre: M/M, Open Relationships, Teenage Crush, Underage Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-25 21:26:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18582892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BradleyJardine/pseuds/BradleyJardine
Summary: Spotting a possible opportunity, Michael tries to arrange a private meeting with his crush.





	By the Lake

**Author's Note:**

> While there is no actual sexual content, it is set in the summer of 1978 so Michael is only 15 while Ronnie is 34 (hence the underage tag).

"Uncle Ronnie! Aunt Barbro!" Your siblings squeal excitedly, rushing over to the Swedish couple as they get out of your father's car, Barbra soon cooing over how much bigger Nina had gotten since they were last over and holding the toddler's hand.

You, on the other hand, stay back even as your mother finally goes over to fuss over Barbro and her daughter. It takes your father calling to help with the luggage for you to finally move. There's pride in his voice as he proceeds to tell Ronnie how well you've done in your recent races.

"So will I soon be racing him instead of you?" He tease, father grunting in response. You just blush under his glance, heartbeat quickening.

* * *

Back in school there's a teacher that all your friends will talk about, whether or not they have her. She is pretty, you suppose, a lot younger than all the other female teachers for sure, but she does nothing for you.

Your friends tease you and say it's because you have Sandy, you already have a girl and they don't.

Sandy is nice, from an Italian family like you, goes to the same church as you. But, she's safe, she's what is expected. Nonna already seems to be counting down the days before she can make a big pot of her special tortellini with the fillings you usually have at Christmas to celebrate the engagement that's to happen even though you’re only fifteen.

Maybe that's why no one seems to notice how you stare after some boys. They can be pretty too you think.

Ronnie's not pretty like the boys you like though. He's tall, handsome, a _man_.

He also looks longingly after your father when he thinks nobody is looking. You see it though, coming up with a plan in your head.

* * *

Pacing the edge of the lake, you try to figure out the best way to handle Ronnie’s arrival, unsure what scares you more.

Him arriving but being angry or not coming at all.

“Michael.”

You turn round and there he is, the note, that you had sneakily shoved into the pocket of his abandoned jeans while he played with Nina in the lake, in hand.

For a moment you stare at each other before he looks at the paper, “Ronnie, meet me by the lake tonight, after everyone is asleep. Love Mario.” He reads, walking closer and handing it over, “Mario did not write this, would not of. Only at the track, that is our agreement, our promise to our wives.”

There’s a pain in your chest as he says that as well as the shock that your mother knows. Gripping the note until it crunches in your hand, you blink back the tears, “If you knew it wasn’t my dad then why...?”

“Wanted to understand who did it and why.” His answer is soft and gentle, just like the hands that cup your face and the lips that press against your own.

It’s a brief kiss but still you close your eyes, making a mental list of all the little ways it differs from the ones you’ve shared with Sandy.

Of how you wish it wasn’t only this one kiss.

“It’s late. You should go to bed.”

You don’t open your eyes as he walks away, waiting until the crunch of the pebbles beneath his feet has ended to do so instead.

* * *

“Michael, give me a hand gathering wood for tonight’s bonfire.”

It’s been three days since the note and the kiss from Ronnie. Three days that have played out like expected; playing in the lake, sunbathing and playing on jet skis and dirt bikes.

You refuse to let Ronnie near your bike though only because he mangled your old one last year.

But you’re going deeper into the woods than normal, there’s always plenty of dead wood down where the trees reach the lake. There’s a look in father’s eyes when he faces you, “Ronnie told me about the other night, no, let me finish Michael.”

There isn’t any anger in his voice so you obediently close your mouth, bowing your head slightly.

There’s a sigh as he squeezes your shoulder, the same reassuring squeeze he gives you if you’re nervous before a race, “I take Ronnie isn’t the first guy to make you feel like that.”

“He isn’t.” You admit, keeping your head down.

The hand leaves your shoulder as you’re pulled into a tight hug, “Your mother and I will love you no matter who it is you want to spend the rest of your life with, okay?”

Gripping at the front of his T-shirt, you rub your face against it, trying not to cry at relief that washes over you knowing this. “Thanks dad.” You smile before biting your lip, “Has there ever been another guy for you dad?”

It was only for a moment but you see the pain that flashes through your father’s eyes, “There was one, your mother knew about him too, a Belgian though he was originally from Italy like myself. I stayed with him when I was still dipping my toes in racing back in Europe. He died in testing quite a few years ago.”

“Dad, I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, wrapping an arm round you as you both walk down to the lake side, “It is the risk we take with racing, it can bring you joy and pain.” He explains, picking up a handful of the dead wood and waiting for you to do the same, “As long as we acknowledge that, it will always be rewarding.”

Nodding, you walk back to the lake house together, Ronnie smiling and waving as you approach.


End file.
